


these twists and turns of fate

by ladypeaceful



Series: each time the universe splits, i'll find you in the stars again [6]
Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Canon Trans Character, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladypeaceful/pseuds/ladypeaceful
Summary: in another fold of the universe, matteo finds david a little earlier. and after every time they part, they keep finding their way back to each other. yes, this is a 5+1. no, i have no regrets.





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [residentsheeper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/residentsheeper/gifts).

> \- JL THIS IS FOR YOU BABY  
\- this little idea came to me like,, 2 weeks ago when i was trapped in the car for 3 hours coming back into town for school and i'm only just now getting around to writing it lmao  
\- posting as a chaptered fic because otherwise i feel like i'm going to sit on it forever and never finish it  
\- title from little wonders by rob thomas

Matteo trudges across the grass back towards the car, hands deep in his pockets and brain muddled with thoughts. He doesn’t see the tiny girl running towards him until she’s nearly crashed into his legs, and his hand shoots out instinctively to steady her by the shoulder as she stumbles a little.

She clings to him, sticky fingertips on the backs of his knees, and he looks down at the small face shining up at him, a mop of dark curls falling into her eyes.

“Hi,” he says, at a loss for what else to say. He likes kids but has never really known how to talk to them, never had any siblings to teach or annoy. “Are you lost?”

Instead of words, she answers with a gap-toothed smile and a shake of her head.

“Okay,” Matteo says, casting around for someone nearby who could be a parent or older sibling. This kid couldn’t have strayed too far. “What’s your name?”

Before she can reply, he hears someone calling in the distance.

“Lina! Where did you go?”

The little girl lets out a shriek of laughter as she quickly shuffles to hide behind Matteo now. He’s not sure about being used as a makeshift hiding place in this game of impromptu hide-and-seek, but that thought quickly flies away when he catches sight of the boy that the voice belongs to.

“Lina, you little rascal. I can see you.”

“No you can’t!” She yells, giggling as she presses her face into Matteo’s leg, only to pop her head back out a couple seconds later to playfully stick her tongue out at the boy who’s now only a few feet away from Matteo. He’s breathing a little heavily from climbing the hill they’re on, and Matteo can’t help but track the bead of sweat that trickles down the side of his neck into the collar of his shirt. Matteo is already overheated from the July sun beating down on them but he feels a different sort of fervor now unraveling in his stomach because holy  _ shit _ this boy is good-looking.

“Come here, sweetie.” He crouches down, holding out both arms. Lina lets go of Matteo finally and barrels straight into the other boy’s chest with a delighted scream. He lets her weight knock him backwards into a sitting position, curling his limbs around the child to keep her from hitting the ground.

Matteo thinks he might combust on the spot from how cute they are together. He stands there awkwardly, not sure what to say, and is on the verge of leaving when the boy speaks again.

“What did I tell you about bothering strangers?” He doesn’t sound stern at all, and the smile never leaves his face even as he gently chides the giggling girl. “Did you at least introduce yourself?”

“He’s nice! I could tell.” She says it so sagely that Matteo can’t help but chuckle. At that, the other boy looks up and locks eyes with Matteo for the first time.

“I’m David,” he says. “And this is my little troublemaker of a niece, Lina.”

“I’m Matteo.” He gives a little nod and smile to Lina, who tilts her head at him and then plucks a little wildflower from the tuft of grass next to her and holds it out to Matteo, who bends down to take it.

“Thank you,” he says softly, sitting back on his heels and spinning the flower a few times between his thumb and index finger.

“That means she really likes you,” David tells him. Matteo can’t really look directly at him for too long without feeling like he’ll go blind. Instead he just looks at Lina, who’s now flopped down completely in the cradle of David’s crossed legs with her own limbs flung out in every direction, her hair in her eyes again. David strokes a hand across her forehead to push the curls back but they just bounce right back.

“Did you brush this morning when I told you to?”

“Uh-uh,” she says, no shame in her voice or expression. “Hurts.”

“I know, honey, but you still need to brush it every once in a while. Your hair has a mind of its own.”

Lina proves his point by shaking her head wildly so that her hair goes everywhere.

“That tickles!” David protests, bringing his arms up to fold her more closely into him and laughing. Matteo melts at the sound.

He wants to stay there with David and Lina, could just sit and watch them for hours and hours, but his phone vibrates for several seconds against his leg and he knows that it’s a call from his mother without having to check it. His dad wouldn’t bother to send more than a text.

“I have to go.” Matteo stands abruptly. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Oh! Right.” David holds out a hand to him, and Matteo shakes it. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Wait!” Lina springs up and motions for Matteo to lower himself, so he kneels down once more, giving her a bemused look. She takes the flower that Matteo had still been holding and, with a surprising amount of care, gently tucks the stem into his hair so the petals sit atop his ear.

Matteo doesn’t quite know how to react but he does feel his heart seize up involuntarily when Lina steps back to admire her work, cutely tilting her head once more.

He meets David’s eyes again, the warmth he sees in them seeming to extend its tendrils through Matteo’s veins.

“Thank you,” he says, an echo of earlier, looking at Lina but directing the words more to David in his mind, not knowing why he feels the need to express his gratitude to both of them, but it seems like David understands from the way his eyes twinkle when he says, “So long, Matteo.”

He has to fight to not look back at them as he walks back to his waiting parents, because he knows that he would probably turn right back around, would stay for good if he saw David looking at him again the way he had earlier. So he determinedly keeps his gaze forward and his strides purposeful, clambering back into the car and squeezing his eyes shut as they drive away, away, away.


	2. two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- special thanks to yon for being fucking amazing and gracing me with her mind and also knowledge of stoner culture asasjkgad

At the next rest stop where they cross paths, in the rolling plains of Nebraska, David finds Matteo huddled into his jacket behind the battered old brick building, vehemently puffing on a joint and looking a little worse for wear. There are cows _ everywhere_, more cows than David has ever thought about existing in the world, and their heavy bodies dot the flat yellow land that stretches so far in every direction, David has trouble convincing himself the windswept fields don’t actually extend infinitely into the distance.

“So, you’re traveling west as well?” Matteo’s voice is rough as he holds out the joint to him.

David doesn’t do drugs, has never wanted to try them and knows he especially shouldn’t now, but he plucks it from Matteo’s hand and puts it to his lips without hesitation because he wants to impress this boy who is already mysterious and alluring without even having to try.

As it turns out, David can only nod yes to Matteo’s question as he unsteadily exhales a pitiful wisp of smoke and only just manages not to break into a fit of coughing. His airways feel like they’re on fire. Not very impressive at all.

He hands the joint back to Matteo, who takes a couple more deep hits before he hisses between clenched teeth, every muscle in his face pulled taut when he says, “Sorry you have to see me like this.”

David wants to tell Matteo he’s happy to see him regardless of whatever state he’s in, because it’s not just the effects of the weed beginning to settle in that have him reeling a little where he stands. It hasn’t yet fully sunk in that Matteo is right here with him, seemingly out of nowhere, after David had thought he’d never lay eyes on him again.

“What are you sorry for?” David winces as the words grate against his throat.

“It’s not really anything, I guess.” Matteo doesn’t convince him for a second.

“Okay.” David says gently, carefully. He doesn’t want to push Matteo, but just closes what little distance remains between them and sits down next to him, their arms almost touching.

It takes Matteo breathing out a few more lungfuls of smoke before he admits the truth. “My parents were fighting in the car. I just needed to get away. But I know that’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not,” David says, “not at all. I’m sorry you’re dealing with that.”

“It’s not anything out of the ordinary.” Matteo sounds empty, like he’s voicing a difficult truth that he’s long since accepted. It makes David want to curl a hand around Matteo’s wrist, or maybe rest a palm on his knee: some small gesture of comfort that would translate as the words he can’t get out properly.

“That doesn’t make it any less shitty.” David knows that he probably sounds desperate right now, but he doesn’t care. He wants Matteo to vent, to let out his frustrations in whatever way he needs, and David doesn’t know how to break the dam. So he tries his best to take a bit of the weight onto his own shoulders, weary as they may already be.

“Whatever you’re feeling is valid. I know a thing or two about shitty parents and it’s not easy to deal with them.” _ You don’t have to do it alone, _ David wants to say.

He watches Matteo chew on his bottom lip, the skin there already ragged and peeling. Then, Matteo lets one of his legs relax from where it had been tucked against his chest, unfolding enough so that his knee knocks against David’s.

He turns, the rough brick scraping a little painfully against his shoulder, to meet shimmering blue eyes that are unexpectedly calm for the storm that David imagines must be raging behind them. Matteo sniffles a little, rubbing the back of his hand over his nose rather harder than he needs to, and David thinks that perhaps Matteo’s bloodshot gaze isn’t solely due to the drugs coursing through his system right now.

David wants to cup his face, run his thumbs over those swollen red rims, maybe kiss away the beginnings of tears forming at the edges. Maybe it would help, and maybe he’d be able to hold on a little longer to Matteo this time too.

But this isn’t a fairy tale and David knows more than anyone that it doesn’t work like that in real life.

Matteo proves him wrong with the very next thing he says.

“It’s funny though, because I wouldn’t have run into you again if they hadn’t been fighting. So there’s that, I guess.”

David is about to respond with something messy and unformulated and probably completely out of bounds, when footsteps approach and he and Matteo instinctively jump away from each other.

Laura rounds the corner and catches sight of the two of them before David can wipe the look of guilt off his face.

“David, seriously? I’ve been looking for you, we gotta go.”

He scrambles to get to his feet. Matteo has hurriedly extinguished and stashed the joint away but it’s too late. The haze hanging over them hasn’t entirely dissipated, and the smell must be clinging to their clothes. Laura narrows her eyes at him.

“Are you _ smoking?” _

“Just a little,” David admits weakly. “I won’t do it again.”

“You know your lungs can’t handle that shit. Say goodbye to your friend and come on, Cassie and Lina are waiting.”

Laura turns on her heel and leaves again without waiting to see if David follows. The silence that falls between him and Matteo is deafening, until David feels more than hears the other boy step closer to him again. When David slowly lifts his head to make eye contact once more, he feels ten times more visible than before, and yet he can’t seem to tear his gaze away.

“I’m sorry,” Matteo says.

“Stop saying that,” David responds, more a murmur than anything. “Stop saying sorry for things that aren’t your fault.”

“A lot of people don’t like weed.” The way Matteo says it sounds more like _ A lot of people don’t like me_, and something rears up in David’s chest, wild and protective and raging. _ He _likes Matteo, so much that it scares him. So much that it makes his ribs ache more than they already do.

“My sister is only looking out for me. She’s not against weed in general.” David can’t say more, can’t reveal himself even though he wants to.

To his relief, Matteo doesn’t pry for more information, just lowers his head and pulls his hood up to cover his untamed hair, though the tips of it stick out all around, forming a halo of sorts around his face.

David wants to kiss him even more now, but he knows that Laura wouldn’t come looking for him a second time without really losing her temper, so all he manages is a tiny smile and a bump of his shoulder against Matteo’s.

“It was cool with you. Thanks for the joint.”

“Any time,” Matteo says quietly. “I guess this is goodbye again.”

David just nods, bites his lip, and echoes Matteo.

“Goodbye, again.”


	3. three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this has taken so fucking long lmao depression is a rough time yall

The next time they run into each other, somewhere in Colorado, Matteo is at one of the battered sinks in the tiny, dingy restroom that only has three urinals and two stalls. He’d gotten a nosebleed in the car and has only just managed to stem the flow of crimson from his nose. It’s little more than a trickle at this point, and he tilts his head back carefully, grimacing at the metallic taste in the back of his mouth. He fucking hates nosebleeds.

There’s a bit of blood splattered around the edge of the sink from earlier when he’d been bent over the worn, discolored ceramic, and when he’s sure that there’s no more where that came from, he cups some water in his hands and cleans off the stains.

He’s still trying to scrub underneath his fingernails when the sound of a toilet flushing startles him a little, mostly because he’d been sure he was the only one in the bathroom. He hears the lock slide and the stall door creak open, and then a little noise of surprise, like a half-formed, “Oh,” that had been pulled unexpectedly from one’s lungs.

He turns around.

“Oh.”

It’s David.

David, who’d just come out of a stall in the men’s room looking significantly more embarrassed than Matteo would have anticipated from any guy who had probably just taken a shit. The uneasiness between them grows as David seems frozen where he stands, unable to move or to look away from Matteo.

Matteo doesn’t know what to say. So he doesn’t say anything, just turns back around and keeps on scrubbing.

David doesn’t move for a few more seconds, and then Matteo hears his sneakers scuff against the tile. He can feel David’s eyes on him even as he turns on the faucet and begins washing his own hands.

“Hi,” David ventures shyly.

“Hi,” Matteo replies softly.

“You have, um. A little… ” David taps at a spot on his cheek and Matteo's hand immediately flies up to wipe at the same spot on his own face. The dusty red comes away on his fingertips like dried paint.

"Fuck. Thanks."

"You okay?" David asks.

"Just a nosebleed," Matteo grunts.

David nods, but he still looks worried.

"I'm fine," Matteo reassures him. He's surprised by how much he actually means it.

David nods again. There's a short, awkward pause before he says, "Well. You look good today. Apart from the blood, I guess."

"I thought bloody noses were supposed to be sexy," Matteo makes a weak attempt at a joke.

"Mmm, violence." David brings a hand to his heart in mock swooning.

“Not that I condone fighting,” Matteo laughs bitterly. “Only fights I’ve ever been in were mostly one-sided, anyway.”

“How come?”

Matteo doesn’t answer right away. Both faucets are off now so there’s only silence between them, save for the occasional _ drip-drip _ of water as it slowly seeps down through the sink drains.

“I get beat up a lot,” he starts. “For being gay.”

He tells David, not really knowing how it all tumbles out so easily, about being fourteen and curious and caught kissing another boy under the bleachers after school one day. One of the best days of his life had quickly turned into the worst, and instead of going home he’d sprinted all the way to Jonas’ place, blood running in ribbons down his face as he’d sobbed through the entire story to his best friend. The next day had been more of the same, and again the following week. Time and time again he found himself cornered by hulking upperclassmen, most whose names he didn’t even know, in the quieter parts of the school grounds, where no one could hear him shout. Weeks became months in which he’d long since learned to expect the punches. To know better than to try and dodge them because that only ensured that the bullies would do everything they could to prolong his misery, if he tried to resist or fight back.

Now David looks like he could punch someone.

“That’s fucking shitty. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Matteo says instinctively, then bites his lip. “Well, no, it’s not.”

“Of course it’s not.” David sounds incensed.

Matteo’s lost count of how many bruises he’s watched blossom across his own skin, how many shades of purple he’s pressed his own thumbs into. He’s learned to savor the ache of healing, to spend hours watching the blue and black fade into green fade into yellow. Learned to hide his indigo secrets beneath long sleeves and smiles that never quite reach his eyes.

“I changed schools last year because of how bad it got.” Matteo isn’t sure why he’s telling David all of this, except that he thinks David might be the first one to ever really listen. To understand. But he doesn’t know the reason for that either.

David’s expression is something wild, his eyes so intense it almost unnerves Matteo.

“I had to change schools too,” he says, the words escaping from his throat like they’ve been desperately crawling their way up this whole time. “Um… also because I—I was outed.”

Matteo’s heart seizes up.

David shuffles his feet nervously. “I haven’t really told anyone this. But you saw me come out of that stall, I might as well tell you.”

“You don’t have to,” Matteo hurries to say, but David waves him off.

“I want to. It’s okay.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath, knuckles white on the edge of the sink. “This was a few years ago. I was thirteen and only a few of my friends knew at the time. But I did something stupid. Right before we got out for the summer that year, I tried to change my name in the school system.”

Matteo tilts his head in confusion.

“I wanted to change it… to David. So that it wouldn’t be a girl’s name.”

And now Matteo understands.

“Oh,” he says.

“Yeah,” David breathes out with a little hitch in his throat, like he’s worried about Matteo’s reaction.

Matteo wants to reach out and hold him. Wants to wrap David all up in his arms, where he’ll be safe. Where no one can ever hurt him again. It must show on Matteo’s face, because David’s eyes soften and his grip on the sink loosens a little.

“At first I just wanted my teachers to know. That I was—that I _ am_—a boy. I thought I’d be okay, even if they didn’t call me David in front of everyone else, as long as they knew that was my real name.”

“It’s a good name,” Matteo says lamely, for lack of anything better to say. David gives him a small smile for his efforts.

“And then I figured that by the time school started back up… I’d be David on all the attendance sheets. So that the people in my classes would know, but it wouldn’t get around as quickly that way. I wanted it to be a slow transition.”

David chews on his lip. Matteo wants to run his thumb over the plush skin there, now slightly reddened and swollen. Instead he just says out loud what he already knows. “But it didn’t go that way at all.”

David shakes his head. “I just didn't expect it to be so fast, you know? Somehow word got out and the whole school—_everyone_—knew by the next day. Everyone was talking about it. People I’d never spoken a single word to, people I’d known for years—some way or another they all found out and started taking sides. It got messy and I just wanted it all to stop, to go away. Everything came crashing down so quickly I barely remember half of it.”

Matteo nods. He’s been in the same position. David keeps going, though his chest is heaving.

“It’s been more than three years and I’m still angry about it. I’m so tired of being angry.”

“I know how you feel.”

David looks at him, something fleeting and impossible in his gaze. “I’m glad someone does.”

The tremble in David's voice has Matteo yearning to fling all caution out the window and throw his arms around the shaking boy. He takes a step forward, hoping that David will reciprocate.

David does. They’re now within a foot of each other. Matteo could wrap a hand around David’s waist, or his neck. Pull him in close. There’s nothing stopping him.

“I would have gotten into a hundred fistfights if it meant you wouldn’t be the one getting hurt.”

“How noble of you.” David’s smile is wider than before, albeit a bit watery. “And pretty stupid.”

“That’s me,” Matteo says.

They both take another step towards each other. There’s nothing stopping them.

David lifts a hand to brush his knuckles across Matteo’s cheek, soft like moonlight, like a promise. “I’m glad I ran into you again.”

Matteo is terribly preoccupied with the way David’s lashes are fluttering as his gaze flits down to Matteo’s mouth, back up to his eyes, and then back down. Matteo instinctively licks his lips and he sees David’s throat bob once, twice.

“Me too,” Matteo whispers.

They lean in, in, in until Matteo feels David’s nose brush against his own, lips barely brushing together before the door to the restroom bangs open and Matteo almost jumps out of his skin.

He and David manage to scoot away from each other in time, but the guy who’s just interrupted them still shoots them a weird look before crossing to one of the urinals, and Matteo tries to school his expression into something less mortified than how he feels.

David, on the other hand, looks ready to hit someone. “Fuck, I—”

He’s interrupted again, this time by a voice calling through the closed door. Matteo’s stomach drops.

“Matteo, honey? Are you alright?”

He doesn’t look at David, doesn’t say another word as he hurriedly wipes his hands on his jeans and shuffles out of the restroom. He can’t bear to imagine what David’s reaction must be to him leaving so unceremoniously, but he figures it must be better than whatever reaction he would have to meeting either of Matteo’s parents. His stern, demanding, scrutinizing father; his mother, soft and loving in one moment but distant and glassy-eyed in the next, shutting herself in the bedroom for days at a time.

David doesn’t need to see this side of him, surely would not stick around to deal with his parents’ splintering marriage or Matteo himself slowly splintering from the pressure of dealing with them. So he lets his mother grip him by the wrist and fuss over his face before she leads him back to the car, and he lets David’s image sink back into the shadows in the recesses of his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> \- i'm on tumblr at @isaksavedeven but i don't really regularly check it anymore except to post the occasional rant about druck  
\- twitter @leafylethe  
\- instagram @sterkerdanijzers


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